Stargazer Base
by Copyrightdragon
Summary: Just some corny, clumsily-written drabbles inspired by the new movie that I felt like uploading. Rating, genre, etc. may change depending on what I add over time, as I might simply make this a repository for any and all Star Wars-y things that I write. Suggestions and ideas welcome.
1. Peppermint

**Disclaimer: The only Star Wars I own are my DVDs and my Vader helmet.**

 **AN: So, I was inspired by Episode VII to do a little writing. It probably won't be coherent or anything, but it's a fun exercise. I didn't include any of the dialogue b/c I couldn't remember it, but feel free to fill in any gaps mentally, if you so choose.**

Rey was stunned. He had actually taken off his helmet. She hadn't for the life of her expected him to respond to her little jibe. What stunned her even more was that he was actually kind of handsome. His hair was long and unkempt and he was a bit sweaty from wearing the helmet, but that was honestly the only thing about him that was expected. Something tapped on the shell of her memory, something about his appearance, but she couldn't quite place it. Even as he pinned her with his force powers and slowly approached her, she couldn't seem to figure out what his eyes reminded her of.

Suddenly she wasn't the only one there. It was an unusual sensation, having someone else attempt to push into her mind. In a way it felt physical, but at the same time it was so otherworldly and strange that it didn't. Her consciousness fell back at the push into the sensations of her most recent memories, dialogue in various voices floating about her head, phantom smells of blood, rusty metal and dewy forests. What stood out the most, however, was the taste of the drink that Maz had given her. She had observed how tired they all were and had given them a drink made of pure liquid caffeine, mixed when hot with something she called "peppermint," a flavor so unusually strong that it served both to shock the senses and cover up the bitter taste of the chemical at the same time.

It was a strange drink, and she'd steered clear of it for most of their conversation, seeing as she wasn't accustomed to strongly flavored anything after her normal diet of water, instant bread and nutrition packets. Han had chugged his down with compliments, and Finn had reluctantly tasted it. His reaction hadn't exactly reassured her, but she tried anyway, almost instantly spitting it back out. At first a mellow, semisweet spice coated her tongue, only to melt away into an unbearable cold. After much spitting, hacking, and laughs from the others at table, she found out that the aftertaste was still that strange, warm sweetness that she had first found so pleasant. She had blinked and taken a deep breath, a lingering cold tingle leaving her nose and mouth a bit sensitive. Never before had Rey thought that such an assault on the senses could be construed as pleasant.

Rey's consciousness surfaced once again, and the image of the man in his mask juxtaposed itself by the image of his face in her mind as he moved off to the side. He was being playful, indulgent, and the passion, the anger of the Dark Side radiated off of him in tantalizing waves of heat. He talked about her friends, her loneliness, her fantasy, and his darkness seemed to beckon to her in a sickly sweet manner, as if inviting her, tempting her. Safety, power, self-assurance… Whispers of dark, dreamless sleep and comfort seemed to sizzle at the edges of her subconscious, warm and saccharine like the peppermint had been at first taste.

But when he moved back in front of her, his face seemed stone. Kylo Ren's expression reminded her of the fierce nights on Jakku. The scraping of his mental claws was as loud as the howling winds against the thin walls of her home. His eyes swirled with green, blue and grey steel, his all-black attire reminiscent of the sky before the stars came out. The metal of the upright examination table to which she was secured raised goosebumps up and down her exposed flesh. Points of light between his dark tendrils of hair made her think of the distant stars and planets, taunting her like the view from a prison window. A part of her wondered if he was still sweet beneath such overwhelming cold, like the drink had been.

This haphazard recipe of memory, sensation and emotion bubbled and boiled in a little black spring. It seeped down between the cracks of her subconscious and coated the walls separating her rational and irrational thought. There, between her disgust and curiosity, it sat. There, between her desire and her fear, it sat. She felt, almost heard the black talons scrabbling around, and when one found its way between those walls, she despaired, only to have them all freeze in a sudden hesitation. Rey reached her consciousness out; was that shock? Something screamed at her through the holes in her mind and she saw her opportunity. Seizing the chance given, she gathered the molasses, tainted black with his darkness and steaming from her passion, towards the front of her mind, and launched it at what she perceived to be his consciousness buzzing just beyond her mental reach.

The claws withdrew almost instantly as though they'd been burned. Fear crackled faintly through the punctures, and with one last heave Rey pushed him out of her mind for good. Surfacing from her little excursion once again, she found she had leaned out of chair, and he'd backed away, his posture defensive. Kylo Ren flashed out of the room, leaving behind a prickly, uneasy atmosphere. After catching her breath, the air began to regain some of that strange warmth that had accompanied him, although this time it seemed more friendly, not so much the heat of temptation as it was a glow of contentment, of a full stomach or the presence of loved ones.

Opening up her mind, she was flooded with a light that she didn't think existed. For a while, she lay there, allowing herself to bathe in the pleasant sensation, letting it repair and restore the aching holes in her mind. Silent support and joyous reassurance washed through her down to her toes. Rey sighed at the sweet taste left on her tongue, making a mental note to thank Kylo Ren for awakening her to the Force, and then she laughed.


	2. Ben

**Disclaimer: If I owned Star Wars, I would've asked Haiden Christiansen to be less creepy in the prequels.**

Looking back, there was a split second where Kylo Ren had considered not skewering his father. Filled with honest despair and uncertainty, he had almost turned the deadly sword in upon himself. He was still uncertain when Han Solo had called out his name, his former name. Memories of good times with his family had bubbled up from under the bitterness he thought he'd buried them in, and he'd felt his eyes burn beneath the mask. The anguish in his father's shout was a double-edged sword, and although he knew that he should only feel sparking irritation, part of him grasped onto that single syllable with desperate yearning.

He wasn't lying when he'd told Han that he felt conflicted; in fact, he still wouldn't be lying if he said the same thing now. Every look back, every meditation upon and reexamination of that moment tore him apart inside. Even after his master had praised him extensively on the well-played deception of his move, the pure malice that he claimed had to have driven the act, Kyo Ren still couldn't settle. Every shred of his mind, of his thoughts, his memories, his emotions, everything was at war. Nothing had been able to settle him down since that moment, since that instant of push and pull.

When the raging currents of his rawest emotions had exposed themselves in the trembling of his hands and Han had taken his saber, his hands, to help him, _to help him_ , his mind had imploded. It had collapsed inward and devoured itself. He had never felt so empty as in that moment. Every malicious thought he'd ever had about his father was wrong. The Force had flowed out of him like air out of a balloon, leaving him small, helpless, indecisive, floundering. At first he had wanted to die. The instant Han had placed his hands on his saber, the urge to commit suicide had overwhelmed him, and he had weakly attempted to pull the blade back towards him, but his father's hands remained firm. There was no way his father was going to let him kill himself, and Han had begun to steadily pull the saber away from him by the time this fact finally registered.

"Anything." _What a hypocritical fool!_

Frustration, irrational though it was, exploded through him. His once empty soul was flooded, filled to the brim with a bitter, childish frustration that his father, _Han_ , had once again interfered with him. _He had no right!_ After all the times he had run off, abandoning him and his mother, he had absolutely no right to think that he could still tell his son 'No,' to think that he could march up to him, a man he never bothered to know, even as a young child, and act like he knew what he wanted, what was best for him. Kylo Ren had pulled his gaze up to Han's, stony-faced, and before he knew it the button was already pushed.

The red light had illuminated his father's grizzled face. His expression had trembled, a screen of disbelief flickered over heartbreak and regret. The corners of his mouth had twitched, and Ben, _Ben Solo_ , had leaned into the touch of his father's fingers, instinct and apology blended into the gesture, but then Kylo Ren had taken over, taking a step towards Han to push his arms away, and the body had tilted heavily over the railing before sliding off into the abyss.

Ben had wanted to scream loud enough to be heard in space, to cry until the lakes of Naboo dried up to nothing, to tear his hair out, to despair, to beat against the railing and the cat walk and tear apart that accursed base with nothing but his grief and his saber, and Ben still did; every day and every night, Ben still did.


	3. Silence of the Light 1

**Disclaimer: Don't own it, probs never will.**

 **AN: So this next series of drabbles will be various connected stories taking place in an AU in modern Anchorage, AK. I have somewhat of a plot in mind, but other than some fluff, daily life glimpses and shadowy undertones, I might not go into it that much. I wanted to try this as a bunch of shorts and see how it goes rather than posting it as a standalone. There will be differing POVs, and the order I put them in isn't necessarily linear according to the timeline.**

~The One with the Coffee Shop~

Tall dark and angry placed his usual order before standing off to the side to wait. Finn hadn't even waited for Hux to finish ringing it up before he had started brewing the espresso. He knew what Curly wanted, same as always, large Starkiller, extra shot, don't fill to the top. After the machine spat two shots of espresso into the cup, Finn moved over to let Phasma brew the next order and added the requisite pumps of sugar-free dark chocolate syrup before stirring and filling the cup with dark roast just a few centimeters from the top. Popping on a lid and sleeve, he pushed it towards the pale, grumpy man with a nod, who claimed it in a gloved hand almost instantly, returning the nod and walking straight out the door, his black trench coat flaring out behind him as a gust of wind blew in through the frame.

Finn just shook his head before looking around, and, seeing Phasma hand out a latte to the only other customer they had for the moment, leaned against the counter to relax for a second. He never understood how people could drink something so bitter. Regardless of whether or not the Starkiller was one of First Order's signature drinks, he found that he could just never stomach the stuff. The young barista had a serious sweet tooth. Rey says it's most likely a consequence of his being deprived of sugar in the orphanage they grew up in together, though she'd never developed a taste for them herself. Phasma looked up from her phone when the bell on the door rung.

"Finn!" Speak of the devil. A short, tan brunette with jeans and a Geek Squad tee came bounding down the empty aisle, a random college student that had been clacking away at his keyboard glaring up at her briefly.

"Rey!" Phasma rolled her eyes and went back to her phone, and Hux's eyes zeroed in on him as he hopped around the counter to intercept her running tackle-hug.

"How've you been?!"

"I'm doing pretty well, and you?"

"I'm great!" She lowered her voice a bit. "And I have great news!" Finn looked over at his boss imploringly, who tapped his watch and held up five fingers. He nodded and grabbed Rey's hand, guiding them to one of the many empty tables, it being three in the afternoon.

"So what's all the hype for?" She bites her lip, looking around excitedly before leaning in. He followed suit in anticipation.

"I just got promoted!" He gasped and let out a short laugh.

"Wow, that- that's amazing! Rey, congratulations!" She squealed as quietly as possible and did a little dance in her seat, knowing Hux didn't appreciate noisy people in the café if they weren't going to buy anything.

"I know, right?! Plutt says I get to go out and handle the _big_ repair jobs, now, like industrial computers and specialty equipment and shit! And, _and_ , it pays a whole 17% more than my current job, not including tips and bonuses!" Finn couldn't help another gasp as his smile threatened to split his face in two.

"You know what that means?" She leans in again and wiggles her eyebrows, smirking.

"I know that you know." He had to clamp his jaws shut, take a deep breath in through his nose and wiggle around in his seat a bit to contain the urge to jump up.

"You can finally go to Hawai'i with us!"

"I know!" She giggled and clapped her hands in joy. Hux cleared his throat and she slumped, giving Finn a deadpan look. "You need to remind Weasley over there that he's a general _manager_ and _not_ an actual general." He put a hand over his mouth to contain his snickers and she cracked a smile again, also trying not to laugh.

"We definitely need to celebrate this when we get home."

"Plutt gave me the rest of the day off to celebrate, says I finally did something significant." Rey and Finn roll their eyes in almost perfect unison at the misogynist asshole that was her supervisor. He glanced back at his own boss to see him tapping his foot impatiently, keeping a close eye on Phasma as she took a rag to wipe down the tables and straighten the chairs. Sighing, he turned back to the young woman he'd come to call his sister and stood up, pushing his chair in. She stifled a giggle at his overdramatic gesture and stood up also, throwing her arms around him one last time in farewell.

"See you when you get off, yeah? I'll run by the Brown Jug and pick something up." He laughed.

"I'll text Poe. Maybe he'll be in at a decent enough hour to actually have dinner _with us_ tonight." She pulled back and pushed her chair in.

"And tell him that if he gets stuck on top of a mountain _again_ I will personally sabotage every single bush plane that they send to rescue him!" He chuckled and rolled his eyes as he made his way back to the counter.

"Alright, alright. Now get out of here, and put a damn jacket on, it's freezing out!"

"Actually, it's below freezing!" She stuck her tongue out at him as she pushed the door open, then bolted out into the biting cold. He turned only to meet Hux's glare.

"What?" He put his hands up, shrugging his shoulders. The ginger merely scoffed and rolled his eyes before heading into the back.

"Keep an eye on things. I need to do the inventory." Phasma came back with the rag and wrung it out in the sink before washing her hands and coming up to stand beside him, eyebrow raised, as he pulled out his phone.

"So what was all that about?"

"Hm? Oh, Rey just got a big promotion, and she's going to pick something up tonight to celebrate."

"Then what's all this about stranding your boyfriend?" He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and chuckled in embarrassment.

"Uh, he um, well, you know he's a bush pilot, right?" She gives him a deadpan look.

"Yeah."

"Hehe, well uh, he couldn't make it to Rey's celebration when she graduated college about a year ago." Both of her eyebrows rose and she whistled. "Yeah, he uh, he had to touch down near the feet of the Sleeping Lady because he was being cocky with his flying and was trying to show off for one of his clients. They got too close to a mountain and the wind shear popped a few things out of place."

"How long were they stranded for?"

"Oh not terribly long, like six hours." She whistled again.

"Man, that's lucky."

"Tell me about it."

"Hey!" Hux's shrill shout came filtering from somewhere in the back. "Could one of you Chatty Cathy's get back here and toss the milk that's expired?" Phasma snorted.

"Coming!" She turned back to Finn for a moment. "Don't get _too_ smashed tonight; you know he'll freak out on you if you come in with a hangover tomorrow." He chuckled as she made her way back to the fridge to help the hot-tempered redhead.


	4. Silence of the Light 2

**Disclaimer: If I had the money to own Star Wars, I would not be struggling to pay for college.**

~Cheerful in Chugiak~

A little jingle played out of Rey's speakers as the last notes of a well-done pop remix faded into the background.

"You're listening to 103.9 FM, The Force." Driving down Northern Lights Boulevard in the dead of night after helping Plutt close, Rey smiled in anticipation.

"Good evening, Anchorage, and welcome back to Nights of Ren, with me, Kylo Ren…" Kylo Ren was her favorite radio DJ. He had good taste in music, great remixes and a voice that would probably make her weak in the knees if she were to ever hear it in person. Hell, the raspy tenor with bass undertones that mingled with the radio static crackling through her speakers already made her sigh in appreciation.

"…and we'll be taking requests after this brief word from our sponsors." The red of a stoplight snapped her out of her reverie and the car slid a bit too far into the intersection on the icy, salty, snowmelt-slicked road after she slammed on the brakes. Sheepishly she threw the car into reverse and backed up behind the white line, careful not to hit whomever had generously backed up to make room for her. She fell back onto the headrest and took a couple of deep breaths. Then her brain finally digested what Ren had said and she whipped her phone out, dialing the numbers for the station frantically.

She'd just placed the phone to her ear when the light turned green and she floored it in a burst of overexcitement. The ringing of the line calmed her down and she eased into a more reasonable rate of acceleration, though her fingers still drummed on the wheel nervously. There was this particular remix of Open Arms that he'd played once that she absolutely fell in love with. Rey had searched the internet desperately to find a downloadable copy, but it didn't seem to exist; she figured it must have been a personal version. Every night she tuned in to this station, praying to hear that song, but he'd never played it again, at least not on the air. The very fact that he had personal remixes indicated to her that he was a DJ for hire on the side, even if he wasn't working on producing anything. There was a click on the line as she came to another, much more graceful halt at a red light.

"Hello. You've reached 103.9 FM, The Force. This is Kylo Ren speaking." Rey's jaw dropped in a silent gasp and her hands began to tremble in anticipation. 'Oh, God, he sounds even better on the phone, why does he sound even better on the phone?!' She was mute for nearly ten seconds before her excitement was joined by an eagerness to hear that song she remembered so well. She cleared her throat and shifted for a more solid grip on the steering wheel.

"Hi, erm, my name's Rey."

"Hello, Rey. Do you have a song request for us this evening?"

"Yes, yes, certainly!"

"And what might that be?"

"Um, there was this remix, of Open Arms, by Journey? You played it last year and I adored it, but you haven't played it since." There was some shuffling for a moment as Rey started moving again, the light having turned green.

"Open Arms, you say? I believe that can be accomplished." She could practically hear the smirk in his voice, and she had to resist rolling her eyes as she turned her left blinker on and pulled into a turn lane, searching for a gap in the oncoming traffic. Rey knew from having been a fan of the show for so long that Ren had a bit of an ego to him, but he wasn't obnoxious, or she wouldn't still be listening. "Do you have something prepared that you could say when you come on the air? A shout-out, joke, anecdote, special occasion?"

'Oh, shit.' She hadn't thought about that.

"Um…" She flipped through her mental catalogue of jokes and, finding nothing that she deemed appropriate for on-air dialogue, she racked her brain for any recent/upcoming events. 'I know!' She perked up as she spotted a gap and made her turn. "My brother Finn got engaged the other day!"

"Well, that'll do just fine. Now, when you go on the air, I'm required to call you by another name to protect your privacy, but you don't have to do any such thing. Is that alright with you, Rey?"

"Oh, yes, no problem!"

"Alright then. Stay on the line and I'll get back to you in about two minutes." There was a click and static sizzled quietly over the line. Rey felt jittery at the prospect of going on the air, regardless of how few people were probably up this late listening to this station. She changed lanes and flicked off the truck that had been tailgating her as it sped past.

"…and now we have Cheerful in Chugiak on the line for our first song request. Good evening, Cheerful." She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the corny name, but it was better than that one time a drunk guy had called in and earned the name "Fucked Up in Fairbanks." Every other DJ on the station had joked about it for at least a week. Rey turned the volume down, finding the radio's echo of what he was saying on the phone to be a little too weird.

"Evening, Kylo."

"Any specific reason that you're so happy this evening?" She stopped at a four-way, letting the car who'd stopped before her make it's left turn before she made hers.

"My best friend, well, he's my brother really, got engaged to his boyfriend on Tuesday."

"My, my, that _is_ cause for celebration, isn't it? How long have they been together?" She beamed widely.

"About two years, now."

"Well, we wish them all the best here at 103.9. Is there a song you'd like to request?" She slid smoothly to a stop at the next light.

"Yes, please. Would you play that Open Arms remix of yours?"

"Anything for tonight's little drop of golden sun." The corners of her mouth twitched up as he managed to reference her name without saying it. 'Clever.' "Enjoy, and many congratulations to the new couple. Open Arms, by Journey." The tenor dropped out at the last phrase and she writhed in her seat, breath hitching at the raspy sound of his now all-bass voice just as the DJ hung up. She slowly and reluctantly put her phone away. Looking up, she realized that she'd missed the green light and sighed. She couldn't stay gloomy for long, however, as the redone notes of the ballad floated quietly up to her ears. Turning up the volume, she consoled herself that at least there hadn't been anyone else at this intersection to honk and interrupt the first couple of bars.


	5. Silence of the Light 3

**Disclaimer: My last name isn't Disney. End of story.**

~Beauty and the Beat~

Sometimes Ben Solo wanted to just up and throw Mace out of a window. Sure, he appreciated his boss, the fact that he paid him well and gave him decent benefits, put up with his short temper and allowed him some creativity and freedom with his show. It's just that sometimes he could just be so damn strict and demanding. He'd come into work sick before, sneezing, wheezing, hungover, exhausted, nauseous, aching and sore; in fact, he rarely asked for sick days.

It was just that this time, this one rare time, he had actually called in sick, and Mace Windu had called him right back in the next day, before he could even type out an e-mail requesting another. The doctor had diagnosed him with viral pharyngitis, and so his throat was beyond miserable. He'd thought strep was bad. Breathing in the cold air when he'd walked out to his car that morning had been the equivalent of swallowing knives. Two Ibuprofen and two Nyquil liquid-gels _at the same time_ had done hardly anything to calm the fever racking his body and the pain splitting skull when he laid down in bed.

Between his screwed-up Circadian Rhythm due to work and the virus attacking his system, he'd hardly gotten any sleep last night. Waking up to stern messages from his boss about needing to oversee repairs to his equipment had not made his morning any better. 'I swear, if Max breaks my equipment one more God damned time, I will slice his head off with a butter knife.' Luckily Mace had already called the repairman. All he had to do was show up, supervise, test the equipment to make sure everything functioned to his liking, and leave. His throat burned in pain as he took a gulp of his hot coffee and he gasped and hacked, careful to keep his watering eyes open and on the road.

"Not smart, Ben, not smart." He kind of regretted being so snappish with the poor guy who made him his drink that morning. Ben liked First Order, specifically their Starkillers. "So black that not even a star could shine through it" was the corny little description on their specials board that sat in the window. He went there every day right after he woke up, which was perfect timing given that even a coffee shop near the airport would never be busy at three in the afternoon. He knew he tended to be nasty without his coffee, and so he tried to talk to as few people as possible until he'd had it. Besides, he talked for a living, and as an introvert he got tired of that rather easily.

When he arrived at the studio, he looked over and decided that it would be safe to try again, and this time he sighed in bliss as the liquid ran down his throat, just the perfect temperature to soothe the grating pain. Making sure that he had a handkerchief and plenty of cough drops in his coat pockets, he wrapped his black scarf from his collar to his nose, grabbed his precious caffeine and stepped out of the car. Immediately he noticed the van parked a few spaces down, the giant orange Geek Squad logo popping out like a sore thumb on the black paint. 'Well at least this one knows how to be on time.'

He stalked through the building with half lidded eyes, only bothering to unwrap his scarf enough to keep drinking before his coffee got cold. Ben stopped for a second at the door leading into Valorum's studio, curiosity piqued at hearing a certain incumbent's muffled voice. He peered into the glass and made eye contact with the interviewee, one Governor Snoke, briefly, before turning on his heel and taking a sharp right to get to Mace's office. He snuffled a bit, resisting the urge to blow his nose as he knocked on his boss' door.

"Come in." He opened the door wordlessly, but instead of the usual goateed, balding man whose name he couldn't quite remember, it was a pretty, slightly muscular brunette about his age that sat in one of the chairs across from the studio owner. His mind froze, so he forced himself to look at his boss instead of staring at the beauty in front of him. "You're late." He pointedly held Mace's gaze without blinking as he took a long swig of his coffee. The dark skinned man merely huffed before standing up and gesturing sternly towards the girl who was wearing nothing but jeans and the t-shirt with her company's logo on it. 'How does she _not_ have hypothermia right now?' "This is Rey. She'll be repairing your equipment for you."

Ben gazed at his boss with a deadpan expression. 'What, does he want me say "thank you," and before the job is even done?' Rey stood up on cue and turned to face him, only to crane her neck when she saw how much taller he was than her. When she smiled politely her hazel eyes seemed to glow with warmth, and something tapped at his memory, like he should know this woman.

"Hello!" She extended her hand for a shake. Ah, the British accent rang a bell. She was the one who had called in to request his remix of Open Arms last week. It's not often that you found someone from England in Alaska, after all. He stuck his free hand in a coat pocket and gestured with his cup, nodding.

"Ben." She lowered her hand, blinking, taken aback and perhaps a little confused by his impolite refusal to shake her hand.

"Ben's sick, Ms. Rey. You'll have to forgive his lack of… _conversation_." Mace pointedly held his gaze without blinking as he said all of this. The man in question clenched his teeth and stepped out of the way, holding the door open with his foot to let Rey walk through with a box of equipment he hadn't even noticed in tow before letting it swing shut.

"This way." He turned walked down the hall, glancing over his shoulder periodically to ensure that she was following him, and soon they found themselves at a locked door, the glass showing a dark waiting room and studio just beyond. Ben fiddled with his keys for a second before unlocking it. He flipped the light switch by reflex and swept into the room, putting his cup down on the table, his coat almost looked like a cape as he removed it while walking across the room to the studio door. Unlocking that one as well, he once again flipped on the lights before going over to drape his trench coat on the chair, more out of habit than anything else.

He turned to find Rey following him in tentatively, taking everything in as she went. Belatedly he realized that he'd been staring and wandered back into the waiting room where he downed the rest of his Starkiller and tossed the cup into a recycle bin by the door. 'This is going to be a fun day.'


	6. Silence of the Light 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars in any way, shape, or form.**

 **WARNING: This one contains some graphic imagery.**

~Insane in the Brain~

He paced around his little room, his legs long enough to make the entire length of it in only a few strides, his restless glare giving him an almost predatory look. But she knew better. Leia knew the anxiety that hid behind his narrowed eyes, between the fingers laced together behind his back. He still hadn't acknowledged her. He hadn't initiated a conversation with her in years, and it hurt. Not to say that he didn't speak to her period; she hadn't raised Ben to be rude, after all. She cleared her throat. 'Besides, he would never shut me out entirely, would he?' He didn't even glance up.

She remembered the day he was brought here, how painful it was to have to call the cops and watch as they muzzled and cuffed her only son before shoving him in the back of a police car. Han's dog, Chewie, had been on edge the entire evening before she'd made the phone call. There wasn't a moment where he didn't have his hackles up, and as far as she could tell, he hadn't stopped growling until Ben was dragged out.

"I, uh, I brought you some CDs? I know how much-" His head snapped up and his mouth twisted bitterly.

"You know they won't allow them."

"I know, I just thought that, maybe-"

"Maybe what?" Ben stalked up to the glass wall separating them. "That maybe I would enjoy looking at them while you were here? That maybe you could shame me again about my terrible life choices?" She blinked, not surprised but still somehow taken aback by his response.

"N-no, no, honey, I-I would never-" He huffed and turned away, rolling his eyes. She took a deep breath. "Look I'm trying the best I can, I-"

"Tch. That would be a first." This wasn't the first time he'd expressed malcontent about such things, but he'd never been quite so snippy about it, before.

Leia knew from the start that that dinner wasn't going to be a pleasant one. She had cautioned Han against it, but the man was stubborn, and he wanted to know his son better. He'd believed that Ben would need a new father figure in his life since Anakin had died. And since he'd thrown all of his support behind the opposing candidate, Snoke, at the end of his own political career, thereby cutting his daughter off from his network, Han figured that them being together no longer threatened her public image. He'd strolled in the door with that old dog at his heels and insisted that he was a better man, that he would be there for her and for Ben, whether they liked it or not. And so she'd sent him off in his bush plane to fetch the young man from boarding school in Anchorage, as they were living in Juneau at the time.

"Look, that school was the best I could afford for you! What is with this-"

"I don't give a shit about the _school_." Ben turned around. "It's _you_ I have the problem with!" Leia blinked and she felt her chest tighten and her throat constrict. As glad as she was to know that he was finally listening to the psychologists and opening up, some part of her would have preferred not to bear the brunt of his anger, whether or not it was justified. "You _never_ cared about me or what I wanted!" His voice almost dropped to a hiss and he blinked rapidly. "Let's face it, _mother_ , you only sent me to that boarding school because you wanted to be _rid_ of me." She shook her head adamantly and put her hands on the glass, trying to hold his gaze despite the sting. "You were _always_ ashamed of me and you still are!"

"You're _wrong_ , Ben, I love you, and I always have! How could I _ever_ be ashamed of you?" He thumped the glass in frustration, causing her to jump a little.

"Then why did you put me here?" At a loss for words, she simply stared for a moment. He scoffed and turned his back again. Her hands balled into fists against the pane as she thought carefully about what to say. She began to shake her head again.

By the time she'd gotten home, late, exhausted and uncertain about what the night ahead may hold for her, Ben already had food on a table set for two, and was more than halfway into his portion. Something wasn't right, and when she came near him to give him a hug, Chewie had nearly knocked her over pressing into her legs and wouldn't let her within a certain distance of him. She'd asked where Han was, only to be told that he would be there for dinner, and so she sat down uneasily to her plate of what looked to be caribou steak. When he picked up his fork again, she noticed that his hands were covered in bite marks.

"I just, I couldn't bear to see you put on trial. I couldn't let them ruin your life like that!" He crossed his arms.

"Oh, and so you thought throwing me into an asylum would be _better_ , huh?" He whipped around and put his hands on his hips, a mocking smile on his face. "I have an idea, let's throw my freak of a son into the nuthouse! That way there's no chance he could _ever_ ruin my political career again! I can take away everything he ever enjoyed _and_ get rid of him in one fell swoop! Maybe they'll even sympathize when I tell them that he's mentally ill!"

"That is _not_ why you're here and you _know_ it!" His hair had gotten longer since she'd seen him last, and the curls were being pulled straight from all the time he spent running his hands through it like he was now.

After about ten minutes, she couldn't stand the strained silence anymore and had demanded to know where Han was. He may not have been the most reputable man, but he had never been late whenever she was involved, besides, she had seen his boots by the door on her way in. Ben didn't meet her gaze, but simply got up and, taking his empty plate with him, went into the kitchen where she heard him begin cleaning dishes. Following him in, she couldn't recall whether or not she had screamed at the sight that awaited her.

"Oh I _know_ why I'm here; the only thing I don't understand is why you aren't in here _with me_." Incredulous, she stared at him.

There Han's body lay, stripped, dismembered, with blood pooled and smeared across the dark tiles. Off to one side there was a pile of skin, bone and sinew where the flesh had clearly been stripped off. Horrifying realizations crashed down on her and she couldn't keep herself from collapsing on the floor and vomiting.

"I didn't raise you to be a monster." He slammed against the glass, nearly pressing his face into the pane as seething rage poured from his eyes.

" _YOU DIDN'T RAISE ME!_ " Leia never flinched, having grown accustomed to his temper tantrums. Ben threw up his hands and went to go lay down on his bed. After spending the rest of the day's visitation hours trying to illicit another response from the 17-year-old, she gave up. Leia left, having to bite back tears as she was escorted out.


	7. Darth Diary

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own Star Wars.**

 **AN: I got this idea just bullshitting with a friend of mine about some of the downsides to being Darth Vader. This is a VERY OOC collection of diary entries from Vader's POV during Episodes IV-VI.**

Dear diary,

Wow, I feel stupid. I mean, I actually feel better already, at the mere _prospect_ of writing a _diary entry_. I'm a _Sith Lord_ for fuck's sake! This is silly. Sidious was right, diaries are stupid.

Dear diary,

I was actually going to slice this datapad to bits with my saber, or have a Stormtrooper destroy it, but Obi-Wan appeared, I had to kill him, and well, a lot of shit went down. I shouldn't really record how I feel about the whole situation, because Sidious says it's better to keep your stronger emotions locked up so that they fester and make you more powerful and shit. I've found that it just makes you constipated most of the time, so it's easier for me to just choke a bitch. It's not like they didn't know what they signed up for. We had to put something about "possibility of being Force-choked" in the fine print of our contracts when some officer's family tried to sue us around 20 years ago.

I _can_ admit that one of the escapees was this prisoner, Princess Leia. She resisted torture and interrogation, so we destroyed her planet, but the little Rebel still wouldn't talk. Honestly, if she weren't so stubborn and, well, on the wrong side of things, I might've liked her. She kind of reminds of Padmé, and even seems to be a bit Force sensitive. Not _that_ kind of like her, though. The medical droids told me that I'm not really capable of _that_ anymore. He doesn't like me saying so, but Sidious isn't, either. Force lightning deformed a bit more than just his face, apparently. Speaking of, I should probably ping him with the news before one of those idiot Admirals does.

Dear diary,

I hadn't intended to make another entry so soon, but I don't really have much else to do as I drift along in this TIE Interceptor. The Rebels blew that Death Star into a bazillion pieces. I knew we shouldn't have relied on a giant, overpowered laser. Luckily I'm still a good pilot or I would've blown up with it. We really should learn to discipline our troops better so that we can install light-speed capability in these things; we had some incidents of Stormtroopers using TIE fighters to run from battle during the early years of the Empire.

But seriously, I've been flying through space for a good eight hours now and no sign of an Imperial ship anywhere. Maybe we could make light speed exclusive to the Interceptor line since they only go to the more high-ranked pilots. If something like this ever happens again, I'm the only one that I know of who has a catheter built into his suit. Those TIE pilots wouldn't last half as long as me with their suits soiled. Oh thank the Force, Sidious has finally heard me. There should be a Star Destroyer out to pick me up soon.

Dear diary,

So I offered that kid, my son, Luke, to join me this evening. He refused. It might have something to do with cutting his hand off, but hey, if he wants to go into the family business he needs to know what he's getting himself into. Sith or Jedi, lightsaber battles are no joke, and the way he rushed in all willy-nilly without at least completing his basic training tells me that he's not taking this seriously. He didn't even _try_ to tap into the Force! It was like fighting a youngling again.

But then he had fallen for Obi-Wan's lies like a youngling would. Apparently the old man had told Luke that I killed Anakin Skywalker, which is fucking ridiculous. You can't kill yourself and still be alive. It was probably some of that metaphorical, philosophical bullshit that the Jedi seemed to love so much. I can tell he's powerful, but poor Luke is so blinded by the Light and their metaphorical, philosophical bullshit that he's clearly not thinking straight. He _actually_ screamed when I told him that I was his father, crying and despairing and _everything_. Who _wouldn't_ want me as their father? I'm the all-fucking-powerful Darth Vader! I don't know, I'm going to have to go meditate on it. I should also eat something, considering I set up this elaborate dinner on Bespin, but everyone was so preoccupied with me and I had to look intimidating, so I couldn't take my helmet off. I'm _starving_ right now…

Dear diary,

Sidious dropped in to oversee the construction of the new Death Star. He's all giddy because he has this clever idea for an elaborate ruse to trap the Rebellion. I'll admit that it's not a bad idea, letting them in after we drop the shields so that they think they're attacking a half-assed space station only to surprise them with planet-grade fire power. I'm just a little concerned that we might blow my son up while we're at it. He likes running around with those ruffians.

He's a bit like me back in the day, I guess, loves being all rebellious and going against authority and sticking it to the man; it's just a little irritating because the man is _me_ now. Since when did _I_ become the equivalent of the Jedi Council in terms of galactic authority figures? I'm getting too old for this shit. I just really hope we can find and isolate Luke from that little terrorist gang before it's too late, or I might just pull an Obi-Wan and melt into my robes, even though that was actually freaky as all get-out, and I've no idea how he did it. I still have his lightsaber. I keep it on the wall of my chambers back on Coruscant. It's always good to have a spare that's somewhat familiar with you considering how long it would take to make another… Oh, Sidious is calling, says I need to go pick up Luke.


	8. Silence of the Light 5

**Disclaimer: Nope, don't own it, though I am a huge fan.**

~Cult of Personality~

Rey wasn't entirely sure whether or not the insolent man sauntering back into the studio behind her after closing the door to the hall was even a DJ, let alone the one she'd been hoping to meet. Mr. Windu had warned her that Ben had a bit of a temper on him, so she was trying to tread carefully, but his lack of both manners and desire to initiate conversation made it quite difficult to reign in the urge to smack him silly. 'Maybe he's just some random intern.' He seemed about her age. He wouldn't be too old for it, especially if he was in grad school. Regardless, she had a job to do, so she sighed and set her tools down, switching on all of the equipment.

"So, what seems to be the problem?" He shrugged. She rolled her eyes. 'Yeah, he's a _real charmer_.' She fiddled with some of the dials and switches, and seeing nothing wrong with the pure mechanics on the board, moved on to the speakers. "Do you mind testing the microphone, there? I can't really fix anything if I don't know what's wrong." He cleared his throat and snuffled a bit before popping in what was probably a cough drop and stepping up to the mic.

"Check." The feedback from the speakers morphed his already croaking voice into a nightmare shriek with bass undertones that rattled through their very skulls and they both stumbled back with their hands over their ears.

"Well, I think we found it." He glared over at her, blinking hard as his jaw worked.

"No shit." Rey rubs her ears before going over and turning off the mic. She walks back over to the speakers and grips them, but suddenly he's there, helping her pull them out from their position against the wall. She crouches down and checks the panel on the back, noticing that the AMP knob seems to be halfway out of the socket. "Oh, fuck me…" Something tells her that she wasn't supposed to hear that, but she couldn't resist.

"I'm kind of on the clock right now, ask me later." Ben sucks in a breath and begins coughing and thumping his chest. She turns around as he throws an elbow over his mouth and she looks him up and down in amusement. "Wow, are you really that prudish?" He narrows his eyes at her and looks away when she snickers, going back to the issue at hand. As soon as she tries to change the setting, the knob pops off in her hand and she whistles. "How the hell do you manage that?"

"Max is old and senile and fucking deaf, that's how." She snorts.

"Wonder whose bright idea it was to hire him for a radio station, then." The curly-haired male shrugs, not having been old enough to even apply for jobs back when Max was probably hired. All he knows is that the guy could play synth, had had a band _back in the day_ and was a holdover from when some crime boss used to run this place. When he opened his mouth to reply, however, she'd already flopped back down on her belly to mess with some wires hanging out the hole where the knob used to be.

Ben figured that Rey didn't really need his help, much less supervision. Girl worked for Geek Squad, probably knew what she was doing better than he would, so he grabbed his phone from his coat pocket and went out to lounge on one of the couches in the waiting room. He could avoid unnecessary conversation that would make his throat hurt and prevent himself from staring at her ass all in one fell swoop; he thought maybe he could also get a nap in, and laid down to do so when he belatedly remembered that he'd just chugged two shots of espresso-based syrupy sludge.

With a sigh, he admits to himself that it probably hadn't been the best idea and stands right back up to go down the hall and grab a cup of water from the break room. On the way there, he spots Max riffing sound effects on his synth for that goofy radio show the station plays during the daytime, something about quirky robots and their adventures. Ben gives him the bird through the open studio door before turning a corner to get to the break room. He downs a cup and a half of cold water before deciding that he should probably do the polite thing and bring some to Rey, as well.

In the hall, Ben passes Governor Snoke as he exits Valorum's studio, and the young man attempts to give him as wide a berth as three feet of space would allow. They give each other a curt nod, the politician directing a somehow steely and slimy smirk at him. Unable to really do anything, the DJ trains his gaze forward until he makes it back to his studio.

Once there, he takes several deep breaths, trying not to let the guilt and anger overwhelm him. 'It's alright; I am here, and I am free, and he won't touch us again. He has no reason to.' Forgetting which water he'd already drank from, he simply picks one then chugs it down before tossing it in the trash and bringing the second one in to Rey.

"Here." Unceremoniously, he sets the plastic cup down on the ground a little ways from her tool box. If she spilled it on accident and wrecked anything else, he'd never hear the end of it. Then, without waiting for any kind of response, he crosses back into the waiting room and flops back down on the couch to get some much-needed sleep. Espresso or not, he found he was actually quite drained now, and definitely tired enough for a nap.

Meanwhile, Rey was actually about halfway finished when she heard her "supervisor" come in and out of the room. By the time she gets up into a sitting position, he's already made his way back out to the little lounge area and seems to have passed out on the couch. 'Good thing, too; he looked absolutely exhausted.' She gets back to work and is just about done within a few minutes. When she leans back to grab the knob and stick it back on, she notices that he'd left a cup of water for her and can't help but smile a little bit. 'Guess he's not entirely rude after all.'

Instead of waking up the sick young man, Rey decides that it should be easy enough to check the speakers by herself, and plugs everything back in before closing the door to keep things quiet for Ben while he slept. She brings the volume down to a mellow level before flipping on the microphone and speaking.

"Check, one two three, check." With a nod, she looks over to see Ben still sleeping soundly and cranks it down a couple of notches. "Check, one two…" Her voice comes out all fuzzy, and, making note of it, she proceeds to do the same procedure at various volumes. For whatever reason, the low-range settings seemed to be having trouble. 'Whatever this Max did probably fritzed a couple of the oscillators, or possibly worse.'

The brunette resists the urge to sigh by reminding herself that this is a lot better than Waddo's current appointment; poor guy was out driving all over town to repair and refuel cell tower generators in the cold all day. He should be retired by now, but refused to let a single day of his life go by without at least attempting to make money. She sucks her teeth and takes a gulp of water before peeling back the foam on all the speakers so that she could give them each a thorough check-up.

It took a couple of hours to go through and double-check everything, but eventually Rey finished the job, her voice coming out clear and smooth on all volume settings. She peeked out at Ben, but he was still fast asleep, and she found that she didn't really have the heart to wake him yet. A few minutes probably wouldn't do any harm. She could easily take her time cleaning up and putting everything back in place.

Pushing all of the speakers back only took two or three minutes, dumping all of her shit back in her tool box even less, and checking her phone for messages she knew she wouldn't have took all of two seconds. Her boss had texted while she was replacing some wire, and when she explained the situation, he'd pushed her next appointment up until 2pm, so she had another whole hour to spare, at least.

Rey checked to be sure, but Ben was still somehow sacked out on that sofa. 'Didn't he down a whole large coffee when we came in here? How is he _sleeping_ right now, and so heavily…?' With a mental shrug, she put her hands on her hips and looked around the room for something interesting to do. Did DJs here even _have_ their own personal studios? If so, who did this one belong to? She highly doubted that this Max person was Kylo Ren, and Ben seemed too much of an ass to make for a good radio show host.

There were some drawers in the back, a few of them full of paperwork, schedules for when to play certain ads, a thin folder with "BAN LIST" written in black marker. 'Huh, I wonder if it's for songs or for callers.' She puts it back, but the next three rows of drawers are simply jam packed with CDs in alphabetical order by artist, only about a sixth of which interested her. At first she considered pulling one out to listen, then wondered how she'd ever manage to put it back correctly. Whomever these belonged to clearly knew everything's exact placement with how meticulously they were packed in. Pouting a little, she closes the drawers.

On top of the cabinet was a small-ish cardboard box with tomato sauce cans printed all over it, probably from Costco due to the top two-thirds having been taken off; surprise, surprise, it also contained several CDs, though less organized and unlabeled. A few flash drives and SD cards were also strewn about, and she wondered how in the world anyone could possibly pick things out quickly from _this_ collection when she realized that there were numbers written on all of the things in the box with that same black marker.

Her curiosity officially piqued, she grabbed thumb drive number seven and walked over to the desktop they had hooked into their setup. It started up pretty easily, and, for whatever reason didn't actually have a login screen. The brunette quickly plugged the plain, grey piece of plastic into the USB port and pulled up the files to find… remixes, hit song titles with numbers after them, likely to indicate which version or rendition it was. At first she simply blinked in surprise, then remembered that there was only one radio host at this station who actually played remixes and couldn't help the giddy smile that lit up her face. ' _This is Kylo Ren's studio…_ '

Unable to resist anymore, she clicked play on "Maria Maria v2.4" and laughed quietly to herself as the bass practically rattled the sound board. It sounded much better than the worn-out speakers in her car could do. 'But wait, does that mean…' She looks up to see Ben's black-clad form pushing itself up on the sofa, his hair all over the place. He blinks and runs his fingers through his hair, looking decidedly confused, then locks eyes with her. His expression is hard to read, but she thinks she can see irritation flash in his eyes as he gets up to cross into the studio proper.

"I take it you've finished, then."

"Y-Yes, I just thought I'd-"

"Go snooping? I see that. Do you know the way back to Mace's office or should I-" A bout of coughing interrupts his offer to walk her, but she shakes her head. The building wasn't terribly large, after all.

"Oh, no, I can find my own way, thanks." He nods and for a moment they just stare at each other. There's a faint scar running up from under his shirt collar, over the curve of his jaw and his right eye, almost to his scalp, and she wondered how she'd missed it before. Ben sniffles and glances over at the computer and she snaps out of it. Rey nods and gives him a polite smile before grabbing her things and heading for the door.


End file.
